


treasure.

by joyfuls



Category: DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 16:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18347798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyfuls/pseuds/joyfuls
Summary: his treasure is you.





	treasure.

_5:20pm_ , he’s ten minutes early, you are nowhere in sight.

The lungful of air Dick breathes in comes out as white smokes that vanish moments after they come into existence. It’s the first time in many years he’s conscious of how the air enters his lungs. That’d also make it the first in a while it becomes obvious the cold he senses isn’t on his skin but inside his chest. He digs his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels in a rhythmic choreography.

It doesn’t take long before his focus zones out, and he turns it into an act of observing the area around him. At first, it’s out of mere curiosity and the impatience of his waiting nags him to occupy himself. Then moments pass, and Dick Grayson’s little game of I Spy with himself somehow becomes Nightwing’s patrol watch instead.

He remembers for a time when Barbara was stuck to the wheelchair and becomes the Oracle. With her handling surveillance duty, he unconsciously relied on her deduction skill to solve the case more than utilizing his own mind. Admittedly, it was a waste of years honing his own intelligence and perception, but it made his life a load easier. Cases getting solved faster means more times with his loved ones, instead of trying to set up infrequent dates at the weirdest hour of the day.

However, good things don’t last forever, although he shouldn’t think of Barbara getting to walk again as a misfortune.

 _5:25pm_ , he glances at his wristwatch, still five more minutes until date time.

Dick’s game of people-watching continues without the slightest hint of excitement. There isn’t much to look at when most of the streets are empty, saves for some people hustling back and forth every now and then, leaving behind footprints on the white ground. The snow underneath his feet has mostly cleared out after his pacing, he doesn’t really understand why he is so nervous. You aren’t late, yet, maybe nothing wrong happened. He doesn’t want to be seen as overprotective or paranoid. That’s Bruce’s thing.

Dick knows he’s meant to be the chill and laid-back back one of the house, the pacifier, the sane man in this family full of big personalities. He’s the one everyone trust and the one that trusts people he loves, and he knows he has to trust you to be okay when you tell him he doesn’t have to pick you up. It’d be fine, you have errands to run in the area anyway, so you’d meet him at the date place.

The thought makes him subconsciously looks backward, the small signboard of Little Italy is carved with wooden material and a few nails to keep it hung. Nothing about the front of the store says the most romantic place on Earth, it’s just a small alley restaurant the two of you stumbled upon by chance. It’s not fancy, but it’s memories, and the thought puts a smile on his lips.

His nerves might have been because he’s giddy too. It has been a while since the two of you went on a date. The only reason why he isn’t waiting inside the restaurant and instead, standing out here, is because he wouldn’t want to waste a second further being away from you. If given the chance, he’d have gone to surprise you by picking you up. But squeezing in time between works is always a chore, and you insisted that he comes here first. 

Maybe one day, things will get better.

 _5:29pm_ , maybe you are running late, he doesn’t know for sure.

Dick pulls out his phone and frowns when he sees the lack of notifications on his lock screen. However, the sight of your smile in the picture he uses softens his heart. It’s from a date to a coffee shop three weeks ago, not that long if he thinks about, but feels like forever when he has to spend it away from you.

He opens his message app again, he doesn’t know what’s the action for if he’s being honest. It’s not as if a new message would pop up if he prays hard enough. The last one was from fifteen minutes ago, about him arriving at the restaurant. You haven’t seen it yet, maybe you’re too busy to check.

Dick sighs, momentarily disappointed. He doesn’t know even who he was aiming the disappointment at. Maybe it’s him for being a worrywart, maybe it’s you for rushing to the last minute, maybe it’s Damian for blowing up a gun last night when they were on a chase. Many reasons, none quite fit the bill.

His focus turns downward again, seeing the dark concrete floor under him becoming visible after he spends the last ten minutes shuffling his feet. That one second of distraction leaves him defenceless against the assault he couldn’t have seen coming.

Quite literally.

His vision goes first, and if it’s not for the playful nature of the action, his instinct would have kicked in with retaliation. It soon becomes obvious that the attack has no malicious intent, not when his eyes are covered by four dainty fingers on each side as a weight lean on his back for purchase.

“Guess who?” The giggle makes him sigh, but the smile on his lips is obvious. It’d not be wise to jump on him, but you know he knows your footsteps, and any attempt for you to surprise him always has him seeing in coming the moment you approach him. However, between the running thoughts in his mind and the padding the snow makes for you, you’d actually succeed in a task thought to be impossible.

Dick reaches for your hands, the prior smile has now turned into a grin with the intention of teasing in his mind. “I don’t know,” he feigned, “the Grinch?”

He can feel your hold loosen and your mock offended gasp, and it’s smart of him to take your hands first because you’d try to smack him if they were free.

“How rude!” Your exclamation comes with a flair of drama that makes him chuckle, and seeing that you have no access to your original plan, the next step is obvious as Dick steadies himself. 

As he expected, you throw yourself on his back, wrapping your legs around his waist. The action makes him release your hands immediately in order to grab hold of you and ground himself. This leaves the window of opportunity for you to pinch his cheeks from both sides, an act of revenge if one can even call it as such.

“How dare you call your beautiful girlfriend as the Grinch?” Your arms wrap around his neck as you bury your nose into his hair, and no attempt to fight back comes from him as he breaks into a burst of delightful laughter.

“My apologies, my fairest.” He mimics your dramatic tone, spinning backwards on his heels while keeping a firm hold on your calves. “Shall I make it up to you with dinner and my endless affection?”

“Let me think about it,” you pretend to muse. “What does your endless affection entail?”

“Anything you want, my sweet,” he chuckles, taking slow steps towards the restaurant and stops short in front of the door before you give your answer.

“Then I want everything you can offer,” you declare, “from now and every day afterwards.”

Hearing your demands forms a feeling in his stomach that brings clarity to every one of the thoughts he had before. It was anticipation, happiness, and the immense joy of being with the one he loves again. There’s no worry, no anxiety, no nerve. Just pure adoration and excitement to see you. And to know that has given him the confidence to hold on the love he treasures so much.

“As you wish, my dear.”


End file.
